It's Fine
by Simon920
Summary: Bruce, as usual, is oblivious.


Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Archive: Fine, but if you want it, please ask first.

Feedback: Hell, yes.

**It's Fine**

Alfred was in the kitchen just taking the last batch of cookies out of the oven when he heard the footsteps running in from the front hall.

"Alfred, is he here? Is he?"

"Is whom here, young sir and I see you neglected both to wipe your feet and to take a moment to actually put your jacket on in this rain."

"Bruce. Is Bruce back yet?"

The child was only nine years old and Alfred was still getting used to the noise and the upset in his previously quiet and ordered life. Dick had only been with them a few months and while there were times he seemed to sink into inevitable sadness about his changed situation and his loss, the great majority of the time he was a welcome brightness in the old house. Like now.

"You know that his usual time is closer to seven than four. Has something happened?"

"There's this science fair in school and I've entered and they're going to give out the prizes tomorrow night and the teacher said I should tell my parents to come." He stumbled over that for the slightest moment but went on, "I think I might win something so can Bruce be there? Do you think he'll be there? Do you?"

Not sure quite what to say to reassure the boy without actually lying, Alfred opted to change the subject. "I'm sure that he'll be there if at all possible, now would you care to taste this batch of cookies? I decided to make them with milk chocolate instead of dark and I was hoping for your opinion…"

Later that evening during dinner Dick looked across the large table to the man he still found pretty scary at least some of the time. Sure, he was usually nice enough, but he never hugged Dick like his parents used to and he never put his hand on his shoulder and he never asked how his day had gone. And he was always so, he was just always so serious. Screwing up his nerve the boy started talking, a little too fast. "Bruce? The science fair is this week and they're giving out the awards tomorrow night. It's not that big a deal, but if you're not busy or anything, maybe you could go? I mean it's not important or anything, but it's kind of stupid and the teachers want the parents to maybe show up if they can." The entire speech was said with his head turned down toward his plate and no eye contact. Alfred hovered in the background.

"Is it important?"

"Um, no…Not really. It's kind of dumb."

Bruce gave him a half glance. "Are you sure?"

"Um, yeah, sure. It's no big deal."

"I have a dinner meeting with the trustees tomorrow but I can see you when I get back. What time is this thing?"

"Seven-thirty." Alfred caught the hopeful look.

"Sorry, son. The dinner starts at seven. I'll see you after, all right?"

"Sure, that's fine." He put his napkin on the table next to his plate. "May I be excused? I have homework." Bruce absently nodded, Dick left.

The moment the door closed, Alfred started. "Master Bruce, really. How could you ignore that child's obvious desire to have you see his work tomorrow? I'm thoroughly appalled and rather disappointed with you."

Bruce looked startled. "He said it wasn't important."

"He made it more than clear that it was quite important!"

"You know I can't cancel a Trustee meeting at the last minute."

"I know perfectly well, as do you, that as the Chairman of the Board and owner of the company, you can arrange anything you please so far as a schedule is concerned."

"In theory, but the fact is that James and Brian both came from England for this and Aki is in from Tokyo. I have to be there. There's no choice, I can't not show up, you know what would happen if I skipped this."

"Might I suggest that you go to the Science Fair and leave in time to make your presentation over dessert? Would that be acceptable?"

For God's sake, "Alfred, you know I'd go to the school if I could, but this time I simply can't."

"Can't or won't? It is beyond me why you brought that child into this house and then don't give him more than the most perfunctory attention when it's perfectly clear that he's doing everything he can to gain your acceptance." It was unusual for Alfred to openly criticize Bruce. Unusual enough that Bruce stood up, intending to walk up to Dick's room only to find the boy sitting on the bottom of the main staircase, clearly eavesdropping on what the two men had been talking about.

He sat on the step below the child so that they were almost at eye level. "Dick, I'm sorry, I wasn't really thinking and Alfred was absolutely right. If I go to your science fair, I can make the presentation to the board over dessert. Is that all right with you?"

"…You don't have to. It's not a big deal."

"But I'd like to, I really would. Why don't we stop for some ice cream on the way over to the school and then you can give me a tour of the place. Would you do that? I'd really like to see where you spend your days—maybe you could introduce me to some of your teachers while we're at it."

Dick gave him a look which managed, without words, to convey exactly what he thought both of the idea and of Bruce. "No, it's fine. I have homework to do and there's a test I need to study for, too."

Bruce tried again. "I'm sure you can do the homework later and your grades are high enough that I'm sure you'll do fine on that test. C'mon, we'll go get some of that chocolate chip mint you like right now."

Dick shook his head, suddenly close to tears. Getting up he headed up the stairs, stopping at the top. "I don't like chocolate chip mint. It's cherry chocolate chip." A moment later Bruce heard his door close.

***

"Alfred, is it all right if I spend the night at Steve's? His mother said it was okay with her." He looked across the parking lot to another car with people obviously waiting for him.

Dick was standing beside the Bentley in the school parking lot, talking to Alfred through the opened driver's window. It was three o'clock on a Friday about a month after the science fair. "I'm afraid that the Master wanted you to do some training with him after dinner this evening, young sir." He saw the crestfallen expression—Dick was nothing if not clear about his feelings, and relented a bit. "Perhaps if I spoke with Steve's mother we might be able to work something out. Would you be so good as to tell me your hostess' name?"

"Mrs. Kanter."

He got out of the car, following Dick over to the several years old domestic sedan parked a couple of aisles away.

"Good afternoon, Madam. The young master tells me you were kind enough to extend an invitation to him for the night?"

She was blonde, slightly plump and middle-aged. She also seemed very pleasant, smiling when she saw him. "Oh, please call me Debbie. Is that all right? I know the boys have been planning this for a while now. Goodness, I'm sorry—are you his grandfather?"

"Forgive me my rudeness, my name is Alfred Pennyworth. I work for Mr. Wayne and I'm afraid that he has already made plans for Master Dick this afternoon, but perhaps another time would work out?"

She rolled with it, not even blinking. "Oh, dear. Boys—you didn't tell Mr. Pennyworth the whole plan. We're going to leave to spend the weekend up at our cottage as soon as my husband gets home—it's about a two hour drive up to Lake Wallenpaupack. The two boys were hoping to camp down by the water—it's really just part of the yard; we were going to have Dick home Sunday around dinner time."

"Alfred, please? I'll work with Bruce really hard next week. Please?"

The Master had specifically mentioned the boy's training, but the lad hadn't been invited anywhere by any of his classmates since he'd first arrived almost three months ago, this was something of a watershed and the look on the child's face…

"I think I can take convince the Master of the wisdom of the old adage of all work and no play, Master Dick. Why don't you come home with me now so that I can make the needed phone call and if he agrees, we can pack your things and then I can deliver you over to the Kanter's home. Is that acceptable to everyone?"

"Really? That would be awesome, Alfred—thank you!" Dick's smile had extended into a grin and his arms were around Alfred's middle section in a strangle hold.

"We live on Overlook, #34. You can't miss it—it's the house with the gargoyles on the front steps, they're wearing sunglasses for summer."

There was an almost infinitesimal pause. "Yes, quite. Shall we say in an hour and a half, if that's amenable with your plans, Mrs. Kanter?"

The two boys were almost giddy, "That would be perfect, I'll see you then—and Dick? Pack a sweatshirt along with your bathing suit. It can get chilly at night. And don't worry about sleeping bags and things, we have plenty to go around."

***

"Master Bruce, I assure you, the child has promised he'll redouble his efforts next week. I see no problem with his going and I find it difficult to think you would, either."

Knowing he was defeated, Bruce gave his okay, Dick figuring it out by the wink Alfred gave him before hanging up the receiver. "All right, let's find you an appropriate piece of luggage and make your preparations, shall we?" He found an LL Bean duffel bag left over from Master Bruce's camping days when he was a boy, along with the matching sleeping bag he'd also taken to summer camp. Adding in a pair of jeans, a pair of shorts, a bathing suit, four tee-shirts, extra sneakers, socks, underwear, toothbrush and tooth paste, flashlight, sandals, a sweater, a sweat shirt, a good shirt and tie just in case, a comb, various first aid supplies, a book of children's ghost stories, towels, washcloth, bug spray, sun block and a bottle of the Master's good Chablis as a hostess gift for the parents along with a fresh baked apple pie for their dinner once they got there. "Oh dear, I can't seem to find the air mattress. Perhaps we have time to quickly pick one up at the sporting goods store on the way."

"Alfred, jeez Louise, it's okay, okay? She said they have everything, remember?"

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "_She_?"

"Sorry, Mrs. Kanter."

"That's better, now off we go if you're to get there before the entire weekend has come to an end." Ten minutes later they were pulling into the driveway of the smallish 60's split level, track home on a street with dozens of houses exactly the same other than color and landscaping. A man, presumably Mr. Kanter, was loading things into the car, Steve was helping and Mrs. Kanter was just pulling the front door closed.

"Mr. Pennyworth, exactly on time—Dick, get your bag out, all right? We're all ready to go." She gave Dick a casual hug one armed around the shoulders and Alfred saw the way the boy responded with such pleasure, pressing close for a few long seconds before grabbing the duffel and dragging it over to be loaded in with the rest. This woman was probably the first real mother figure the lad had encountered since… "We'll just drop him off Sunday afternoon, if that's all right? Probably around four or five unless we hit traffic. We'll call you if there's a problem, Mr. Pennyworth."

"Well then off with you, Master Dick. You mind your manners and behave yourself—listen to the Kanters and…"

"I know, and eat my vegetables and go to bed when they tell me and brush my teeth. C'mon, Alf, I'll be fine. 'See you in a couple of days, okay? Bye." The parents, kids and a large golden retriever piled in, the car doors slammed and the car backed down the driveway as Alfred waved them off. As they turned down the corner at the end of the street, Alfred got back in the Bentley, smiling as he turned the key. The child looked really happy—carefree for the first time since he'd arrived. Good.

***

"Alfred, Where's Dick?" The master was eating dinner alone in the small dining room. His was the only place set and the menu was a bit more sophisticated than it had been lately with Alfred trying to tempt the thin child to eat up; especially after his initial reaction to pate and caviar.

"He's spending the weekend with a young school friend at that family's vacation home. I mentioned this to you earlier, if you recall."

Bruce looked up. "Excuse me? I was going to have him train this weekend."

"Yes, indeed. However I felt this was something he needed a bit more, sir." Alfred was as unperturbed as if he were commenting that the rain had stopped. It wasn't like Bruce to forget this sort of thing, but he may just have been busy.

"What about security? Who are these people? Do we know them, know anything about them? How do we know Dick is safe with them? For God's sake, Alfred, they could be anyone, they could…"

"Yes, quite. They could be in the thrall of organized crime. They could, at this moment, be arranging a ransom note for the child's release." The sarcasm was thick, even for Alfred.

"Don't start. His parents were murdered by members of a crime family and he's the only…"

"Only witness, yes. In addition he now resides with one of the wealthiest men on the planet. If that were a real concern you'd have hardly enrolled him in that school. The child has finally made a friend and is at long last behaving like a normal youngster and I saw no harm in allowing him to enjoy himself with a perfectly normal and harmless family for a couple of days."

"I don't appreciate your going over my head in this—you could have called and asked if I…"

"'Had any objections? I did ring you, and you agreed that there was no reason to disappoint the young master. Now, would you like the dessert I've prepared?"

"Do you at least know where he'll be?" Rolling his eyes, Alfred handed Bruce the slip of paper with the address and phone number scrawled in pencil. There would be no problems.

***

About a month later Dick wandered into the kitchen as Alfred was putting the evening's roast into the oven. "Alfred, do you need any help?"

"I believe there are some potatoes which would benefit from peeling, if you'd care to have at them."

Sitting on a high stool placed by the sink, Dick began. A few minutes passed in uncharacteristic silence until, "Tomorrow's Friday."

"Why yes, I believe you're right, Master Dick. Is there some significance to that fact?"

"There's no school this weekend and I was wondering if maybe Steve could spend the night—do you think Bruce would be mad?"

Another breakthrough, Dick's first attempt to have a school friend spend any time at his new home. "I can't see any reason why he'd mind, so long as Monday arrives with the house still standing and in good condition. Would you like for me to call the Kanter's and make the arrangements?"

The call was made, the deal done and Steve arrived in plenty of time for a quick swim in the indoor pool before the dinner of hamburgers and fries (hand cut, of course) were on the table. Afterward, ice cream sundaes and then selection of first run films were at their disposal.

"Dick—dude! This is totally awesome—I'm like never going home!"

It was getting close to midnight, the kids were asleep in a tent set up in the conservatory when Bruce finally pulled in after a long evening of searching for a missing eighty-five carat diamond ring down in the jewelry district.

"Alfred, please get Dick, I want to see if he's gotten that flying roundhouse kick down yet."

"Now, sir? It's almost one on the morning."

"He has to learn to function without sleep if he's going to be my right hand. Get him, please."

Alfred set the nightly tray holding the turkey sandwich and the mug of black decaf coffee on the computer console. "I'm afraid that may prove to be problematic, sir. He has a friend over for the weekend and the boys are both in a tent at the moment, sleeping."

Bruce looked like Alfred had spoken in Klingon. "Excuse me?"

"I'm sure you heard me, Master Bruce. Unlike you as a child, Master Dick seems to enjoy and require companionship and I feel that to be healthy. His roundhouse kick can wait until Monday."

Bruce was clearly not pleased. "If he's to become a professional, he has to commit himself."

"Oh, really. The youngster has been a professional since he was three years old, and he shall remain one long after he leaves this house—something I sincerely hope doesn't occur for a very long time. In the meanwhile, if he is to become a well-rounded person, he needs to have friends. Monday will come soon enough."

Bruce stewed for a few moments, unhappy but also outranked. "This isn't the end of this."

"No, I assume it isn't. Now, may I get you anything else this evening?"

An hour later Bruce was still working on the computer when he sensed someone watching him. "You're supposed to be in bed, Dick."

"I heard what you said to Alfred—you wanted me to work tonight."

"You have a friend over, we'll do it next week."

Dick hung back, staying close to the stone walls. "You wouldn't have let Steve stay if you'd been here."

Bruce didn't look up, his eyes intent on the rap sheet of the petty thief he suspected in a series of robberies. "Of course I would have. Alfred's right, everyone needs friends."

'Except Bruce', ran through Dick's mind. "It won't happen again."

"Don't be silly—of course your friends should come here; this is your home."

"…Okay. It's fine, Bruce; I'm sorry."

"Dick…" Bruce finally turned to look at the boy, but he'd already left.

***

Four years went by, day after day, month after month. Dick had several birthdays and was now fourteen. He was Robin; he was an honor roll student and he and some of the other young sidekicks were forming something they'd decided to name 'the Teen Titans'—alliterative, if a bit pretentious, according to Batman.

One evening after dinner, Bruce inadvertently heard Dick and Alfred talking in the hallway outside of his study.

"I'm quite sure that Master Bruce will agree to your going this weekend, Master Dick—in case of fact, I'd be more than happy to make the inquiry myself if you wish."

"Thanks, but that's okay. It's fine."

"But Master Dick, I assure you, I can't imagine there being a problem with this."

"Forget it, Alf. It's fine."

The thick carpeting prevented Bruce from knowing if the conversation continued out of earshot or if one of the two had simply left, ending the talk. Curious, he got up and looked past the doorway. No one. Walking through to the kitchen he found Alfred trying to relax with a cup of what was probably Earl Grey. "What was it Dick doesn't want to ask me?"

"The Kanter's have invited him to spend the weekend with them up at their vacation home again. The young master feels that he needs to be here to help you track Two-face instead." He took another sip and looked back down at the cross-word puzzle he was doing from the paper. "He thinks he's been spending too much time getting the Teen Titans sorted, but I told him he should go. Your opinion?"

Bruce nodded, "Dick's right. He's needed to help with Two-face this weekend. This is the kind of dedication I like to see."

"Excuse me, are you seriously just accepting this reasoning from an adolescent without comment or protest?"

Oh, please, not this chestnut again. "Alfred, you know as well as I do that Dick is as far from a normal fourteen year old as you could find."

"Too true; he's more intelligent, more highly trained, more focused and devoted to the work we do than any other youngster could possibly be. Beyond that, he's been raised to have a more strongly developed work ethic than most MBA's you have on the payroll over at Wayne Enterprises. He's a fully licensed detective and he has work to do—something which, I point out, he thrives on." He paused for breath and to decide on his next sentence. "None of which changes the fact that he remains a young boy turning down a carefree weekend with one of his few normal friends to skulk through dank alleyways and risk life and limb chasing after yet another emotionally unstable low-life."

Oh Christ. "So, what do you suggest?"

"The obvious—that you go upstairs and tell him that not only does he have permission to go this weekend, but that Two-face isn't quite the immediate threat you first believed him to be and you prefer that he simply have a good time with his friend."

Bruce didn't actually roll his eyes, but just barely. "He didn't even ask me if he could go so I can't think it means all that much to him."

Alfred fixed Bruce with a Bat-worthy glare. "Of course it's important to him—it's simply that your opinion of him trumps his own feelings and needs. Now go up there and tell him he has a few days off." Alfred was again the parent letting his charge know he'd dropped the proverbial ball and disappointed him.

"He said it was fine."

"It most definitely is _not_ fine, young man and if I must I shall call the Kanter's to accept their generous invitation and drive the boy over there myself. Am I making myself clear?"

Trumped and beaten, Bruce went upstairs to let Dick know he'd be spending the weekend in a tent, swatting mosquitoes and eating charred hot dogs.

***

"So, how was the camping trip?"

"It was fine."

Dinner, Monday. Dick had gotten back late last night, after midnight and was tired enough that he went straight up to bed and overslept this morning. This was the first Bruce had a chance to speak to him since he'd left for the Kanter's on Friday.

Bruce made another stab at this. "What did you kids do?"

Dick toyed with his food. "Y'know—hiked, went swimming; the usual."

It was said with the least enthusiasm Bruce had ever heard from the boy. "Did you have a good time."

"It was fine. I said that." A pause. "I'm sorry—I know you were expecting me to help you this weekend and Alfred kind of leaned on you. It won't happen again."

Startled, Bruce knew this was his fault, not that Dick didn't need to learn that discipline had to be maintained if they were to be effective. "It's not a problem."

"It won't happen again. 'Count on it."

"Dick…"

"No, really—it's fine. I'll work harder from now on. I know this isn't a game or anything."

"Well, no, but there's no reason why you can't enjoy what you do."

"Oh, I do enjoy it—it's a real charge, but it's serious, y'know?" Dick nodded to himself. "I want to get better at this; I'll work harder."

***

"You seemed rather pensive this evening, Master Bruce. Is there anything I might be of assistance with?"

"That dinner conversation with Dick bothers me, more than I like to admit, in fact."

"Indeed?"

"Of course I insist—demand that Dick be dedicated to our work, it can't be any other way. If either one of us let down, slack off in any way, we could be killed and that's a simple fact." He toyed with his coffee cup a little. "If Dick is going to be Robin, if Robin is going to function then choices have to be made and some of them are difficult ones, especially for a youngster." He put the cup back down. "I know this, I understand but that doesn't make any difference. He has to give a hundred percent or give nothing. Period."

"When you're in the field, yes, of course. Simple prudence dictates this but you forget that Master Dick is not the same as you are, sir. He has a greater need for friends, for pleasure and companionship that you've ever needed. This can't be forgotten if the youngster is to thrive. Surely you know this. Heavens, did you ever laugh on patrol before he joined you?"

"I know this—Dick _is_ a different personality than I am and always will be. But if Dick had a problem with what's required of him, then he can think about retiring Robin, at least until he gets adolescence out of his system and is ready to do his job the way it had to be done."

"Master Bruce, surely you don't suggest that…"

Bruce continued without pause. "And it's not like Dick is your average kid. He never has been, he never will be. He was a working professional from the time he could walk. He knows what being a pro, having responsibilities entail and if he's feeling the need for a break, well then…we'll have to talk about that."

"Sir…"

"No, Alfred your argument that Dick is a child who needs the release of normality is all well and good, but it fails to take into consideration the realities of our lives."

Bruce was tempted to go upstairs and have one of those 'sit on the bed and tell me what's bothering you' man to man talks and while he knew that Dick would probably be pleased at the show of understanding but that simply wasn't their way. It would seem like play acting. It would be a charade and would just be awkward for both of them.

He leaned back in his chair. He wasn't unsympathetic. He wasn't. He knew that Dick—he knew that _any_ youngster needed an outlet when they were under the kind of pressure Dick was under.

Dick chose to make this his life. It was his own decision and now he was living the reality of the path he'd decided on. Going easy on him now would simply weaken him. He needed to be firm.

The boy had never been coddled and was strong because of it.

This was for his own good.

***

"Master Dick, you know full well that time off is not only reasonable but necessary for ones health. If you wish me to speak to him, I shall be only too happy to."

"God, Alfred, don't say anything. _Don't_, okay?"

Alfred relented against his better judgment, nodded, "If you insist but I'm not convinced that this is the right course for either of you."

"If he thinks I'm not completely committed to the whole Robin thing he'll pull it and I'll end up just being a sort of semi rich kid-slash-charity case. That's all everyone thinks I am already and if it became the truth; crap, Alfred…I'd hate that. This is the way I deal with that BS; because I know the truth. If that became what I am…" He trailed off before resuming after a beat. "So please don't say anything?"

"As you wish, Master Dick, as you wish."

"It's fine, really. Everything's fine, okay?"

***

More years went by, Dick was seventeen and a junior in high school. He remained on the honor roll, was still Robin, leader of the now well established Titans, a favorite with the Justice League, as close as anyone could get to being the poster boy for the GCPD and quietly devoted to a few charities he had a special interest in. Beyond all of that, he had grown into his looks and his physique, becoming (in both of his identities) a regular in both the usual tabloids and in the East Coast society rags. Girls called police headquarters hoping to leave him messages and called the Manor using the old excuses of needing help with their homework or a ride home from school.

The thing which amazed Alfred (and Bruce, though he wasn't about to say anything about it) was how somehow, Dick managed to almost always be upbeat, cheerful and optimistic day after day and year after year despite injuries, frustrations and the constraints he had to accept to live the life he did.

Somehow he juggled everything with seeming ease and even managed to have genuine fun while he was at it.

Bruce went through that day's mail, opening an official looking letter from Brentwood Academy.

_Dear Parent or Guardian,_

_It is my great pleasure to inform you that your son or daughter has been selected for membership in the National Honor Society. We hope that you are able to accept our invitation to Brentwood Academy this coming Thursday at two PM to witness the induction ceremony of this Fall's members. I also hope that you will be able to attend a reception immediately afterward in the cafeteria to congratulate the inductees._

_As I'm sure you're aware, this is a singular honor given to only ten percent of the Junior class each spring and another five percent of the Senior class next fall. Membership is based on a minimum of a 3.5 grade average, involvement in school and community activities in addition to overall good character._

_As the selection is always kept a secret until the actual names are announced, I ask that you not tell your son or daughter and indulge us by entering the school by way of the rear entrance. You will be met by a member of the faculty and escorted to a classroom near the auditorium to wait until your child's name has been revealed so as to not tip our hand early._

_Congratulations to you and your family._

_Sincerely,_

_Jason Wiedman, Principal_

"Alfred, you'll come, of course?"

"I'd consider it an honor, sir."

Thursday rolled around, Dick knew it was the day for the NHS induction and he knew there was a good chance that he'd be called; it wasn't like it was hard to figure it out who qualified. The student body assembled for the ceremony, Dick sitting with a couple of friends and a slight feeling of tension in the air as kids wondered if they'd be able to put NHS on their college applications.

One by one the names were called out, teasing the kids until the final moment; 'this student is usually found in the physics lab when she's not cooking her famous pies for the Gotham Bakery, blah, blah, blah…Becca Smits!'. There would be a round of applause, Becca would make her way to the stage, shake the principal's hand, take the certificate and sit on the folding chair as her parents would come in and also take their seats, smiling, while the next kid was called.

About two thirds through the list Dick knew he'd been tapped as soon as the intro started. 'The original swinger of his class, usually found hanging around with left over supermodels and movie stars and who somehow has avoided picking up an English accent; Dick Grayson.'

Applause, applause as he went through the drill and looked out to see Alfred walking alone. No Bruce.

Of course.

Alfred apologized profusely during the tea and cookies meet and greet when the ceremony was done. "I can't express how disappointed he was to be called away, Master Dick; he was distraught."

'Yeah, sure', Dick knew was never distraught, especially when it involved missing anything at school but whatever and smiled at Alfred, nodding his understanding that these things happen. "No problem, Alfred, we can tell him about it tonight at dinner." Batman was needed for whatever he was needed for and so it goes. 'Just another day at the office. "It's fine, no big deal."

But Bruce missed dinner but called in mid-flight en route to Paris to help catch a jewel thief he'd promised to apprehend. Two days later he showed up at breakfast, seemingly having forgotten NHS, Dick not bothering to remind him.

* * *

Another two years passed and Dick packed for Hudson University, insisting on taking a cab to the airport alone to avoid a long good bye. Later that evening Bruce sat alone at the small dining room table, Alfred silently serving him his meal and occasionally sniffing as subtly as he could. No one said anything.

Batman patrolled as usual, though it was a quiet night and he returned relatively early to work on the computer.

It was a new pattern for him, or rather a return to the old pattern he'd lived before Dick had moved into the Manor and become Robin. It went on for six weeks, neither Bruce nor Alfred choosing to discuss what had happened. It was a bit like a trip back to the old days except...

'It's the quiet, that's what it is. The phone isn't ringing as much, there isn't any splashing from the pool, no dirty clothes tossed on the floor in the gym, no too loud music, no cars revving in the garage.'

Up in Dick's room, everything was neat and put away—testament to the fact that the owner was away.

'It's like a damn mausoleum in here.'

"Alfred,c'mon, let's go."

"Where might we be going, sir?"

"New Carthage, let's surprise Dick; isn't it Parent's Weekend?"

"I believe that you already declined attending the festivities, if you'll forgive me, sir."

"...Well, it will be more of a surprise this way, c'mon, let's go."

"I'm not sure that the young master will appreciate us simply 'showing up', Master Bruce."

"Of course he will, it's what, nine-thirty? We can be there by lunch; I insist, I bet he'll be happy to see us."

Alfred knew better but also knew there was no talking Bruce out of something when he'd made up his mind. Putting the basics in a couple of small carry on bags, they took the small Wayne Corp jet two hundred and fifty miles north, picked up the rental car and were on campus by eleven-thirty. They found him in the room of his boarding house with a somewhat pneumatic young lady, neither student happy.

"You said you weren't coming up this weekend."

"...Surprise." Bruce recovered fast, or tried to. "I changed my mind, 'thought it would be fun to see the place and meet some of your friends, see what's going on, 'how you're doing." He gave the girl a pregnant look, Dick taking up the hint.

"Bruce, Alfred, this is Lori Elton. Lori, this is Bruce Wayne and Alfred Pennyworth."

The pleasantries were exchanged then became awkward which Bruce tried to cover. "So, why don't we all get some lunch? Dick, you must know where to eat around here, we'll put yourself in your hands."

"Sure."

Lunch went reasonably smoothly, everyone catching one another up on the last few weeks and Lori excusing herself to meet her own parents but all agreeing to have a double family dinner later.

"I'm sorry we seem to have interrupted your plans, Dick."

"It's fine."

Walking through a tour of the campus and the various high points of New Carthage, Dick finally, as politely as possible turned to Bruce while Alfred was out of earring. "Look, it was nice of you guys to come all the way up here and all, but I really wish you'd called. I'm busy this weekend; there's a case Robin is working on and...just call next time, okay?"

Bruce and Alfred left after dinner, getting back to the Manor by midnight. As they walked into the kitchen, an almost unheard of breech in master/servant etiquette, Bruce quietly commented "He's really gone."

"I'm sure he'll be back, Bruce, this is the way of things. Surely you knew this?"

"Well yes, of course. I guess I just didn't think it would be so, I don't know, definite."

"He's hardly in his grave, he's simply doing what all young men do; he's spreading his wings and finding his own way."

"He doesn't need us."

"Not as he did when he was younger, of course not, but he'll be back and surely you're as proud of him as I am; good lord, I couldn't be prouder of him if he was my own flesh and blood. He's quite wonderful, you know."

"Yes..."

"Enough of this, he's exactly as we made him, us and his parents. He's bright and independent and compassionate and he cares passionately about so very many things. He has his life before him and I ache to see him in a few years, he will continue to grow and shall become so very, very much."

"I missed so much, though."

"Yes, you did and he was hurt and angry about some of the things but he overcame it and understands."

"But, Alfred, he's gone."

"For now, yes, he is."Alfred decided against a cup of Earl Grey. "He's fine...because of us" He started for his room but paused. "And so are you. We all are." He turned the kitchen light off. "And he'll be back soon enough for Thanksgiving. It will be fine."

10/14/09


End file.
